


As Close as We Can Be

by ashisfriendly



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Cunnilingus, F/M, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Benjamin Wyatt of Partridge has to start thinking of his council when he becomes king, but there are other parts of his future that he's preparing for as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Close as We Can Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookworm03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm03/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY bookworm03!!!!! You are a true gem and wonder of the world and continue to make my life so beautiful and wonderful and I hope this fic can give you even just the slightest bit of happiness. Thank you for your continued support and inspiration!!! <3 <3 <3

The sky started to turn gray some time after high noon. The patrols were short that day, and were completely lacking in excitement. There was only the sound of their own horse’s hooves, their whispered jokes and laughter, no other flags waving through the trees. There would be rain before dark and no one wanted to be out in it, and if the pattern of the last few weeks were any indication, there was no reason to be caught in the downpour.

The youngest princess was running through the front gardens, trailed by her nurse maid and Petunia, the royal family dog, when they arrived back. They were greeted with waves and a few nods as they trotted down to the stables. The rain started just as they corralled the horses inside. 

“That was a short patrol.”

Leslie’s heart jumped and she spinned around, standing straight before bowing slightly. Years ago, when she was one of the first female knights in the kingdom, she wasn’t sure how to address the royal family. Should she curtsy or bow? There was no skirt to hold when she was in her armor, nor when she wore her uniform.

“Your highness,” Leslie said, tilting her chin up, “the rain and--”

Prince Ben raised his hand, cutting her off.

“Whatever you think is best, Lady Knope,” he said, taking a step toward her. His chin dipped down and the brown of his eyes darkened. “I suppose I wasn’t expecting you back so early.”

Leslie swallowed, the leather and chain of her armor suddenly heavy and hot. 

“Swanson and his men will go out at dusk, as usual, but we don’t expect any trouble.”

“That’s great news.” Ben walked up to her stead, Little Sebastian, patting his neck. “I expect you at the advisory meeting since you’re back early.”

“Your highness?” 

It wasn’t like she didn’t want to attend the advisory meeting, it was just that she’d never been invited before.

“You’ll be at the advisory meeting tonight,” Ben said, stepping back from Little Sebastian. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, of course.”

Ben linked his hands behind his back and glanced at the rest of Leslie’s men before locking his eyes back on her. His gaze sunk into her, creating something light and wonderful inside her chest, deep in her stomach. He had this effect on her, he may have this effect on many people, but it didn’t matter. When he looked at her like this, nothing mattered. Not the warning of revolt within the people of the kingdom, not the schedule of patrols and the lack of knights, nothing. Nothing at all. 

He turned, walking away. Leslie was hypnotized by the sight of his backside, the way his clothes fit his slender shoulders and tight waist, how his stride accentuated his sexy frame. Little Sebastian nudged her shoulder and Leslie jumped, blinking herself back to reality. She nodded at her men to continue with their work and bit the smile from her lips as she led Little Sebastian to his pen.

//

Leslie was early. She sat, staring around the room, wondering if she should pour herself some wine, but decided to play with a loose string on her tunic instead. She spent a long time in her room, spritzing herself with rose water and combing her hair. She didn't have time, nor the energy for a bath, but she hoped this was enough. Did the male advisors make themselves decent for advisory meetings? The queen would be there, but she was expected to smell nice and have her hair done. She had a whole staff to help her, Leslie didn’t.

When the door opened, Leslie sprang out of her seat, breath catching in her throat. Prince Ben walked in, followed by his father, who was busy talking to Sir Swanson, the king’s chief advisor. Leslie’s heart went wild in her chest, her palms beginning to sweat. The king still hadn’t noticed her, but the prince couldn't take his eyes off her. 

His stare wasn’t helping her nerves, only bubbling the already furious mayhem in her stomach, lighting some kind of flame along her skin. Her cheeks had to be flushed, but she should be thankful, she had no rouge to put on them anyway.

Leslie bowed and when her head came back up, Ben was much closer, and his father had noticed her.

“Lady Knope? You’ll be joining us, I see,” the king said.

Sir Swanson nodded at her, but Leslie’s eyes shot to Ben. She didn’t know how to answer that, only to say, “Prince Benjamin wished my presence in this meeting, your highness.”

“Did he?” the king asked.

Leslie swallowed.

“I did. I will need an advisor soon.”

The king just nodded, averting his gaze away from Ben.

Prince Ben’s 18th birthday was not that long ago and Leslie assumed he would start his own council and choose an advisor soon, but she had no idea… did he mean… her?

The king sighed, sitting down and immediately reaching for the carafe. “Benny, do you know where your mother is?”

“No, I--”

Just then the queen waltzed in, trailed by April, who Leslie knew as one of the staff of writers and scribes in the castle. Her eyes widened when she saw Leslie and Leslie looked away, smiling.

Leslie stood, bowing to the queen, who smiled warmly at her and rolled her eyes at her husband before walking over to kiss Ben on the cheek. 

“What did I miss?”

“Your son is considering Lady Knope as his chief advisor,” the king said before taking a giant swig of his goblet.

“Really?” the queen asked, her lips curving in a smile. She looked at Leslie and Leslie tried to stand up straight and like she could truly be the first female advisor in Partridge. “That’s wonderful.”

Leslie’s cheeks burned and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. The meeting started, the king curious to know how the people’s morale was concerning the dip in the economy and April wrote down notes, doodling dragons and swirls of flame along the parchment. Leslie listened intently, opting to watch and learn how these meetings go, watching Sir Swanson as he advised the king and kept a stone cold face as he reported deaths and the status of his men. 

Leslie was nothing like Sir Swanson, that was obvious, but she wondered if Ben wanted someone like that working for him. If he did, he was looking in the wrong direction. He knew Leslie, though, he knew her inside and out and he must know what kind of advisor she’d be. She’d already given Ben advice on the state of the children in the villages and when he wouldn’t listen, she hounded him until he did. 

That was the first time he kissed her.

At the end of the meeting, April was the first to leave and the queen hurried after, mumbling about something to do with Princess Stephanie. The king glanced at Leslie as he left the room, Sir Swanson following behind. Maybe she could ask Sir Swanson some questions on advising, perhaps she could organize a list for him or something. Her mind couldn’t keep up with itself, thoughts spiraling and doubts piling up and up and up. Maybe she could get Sir Dwyer to spar with her, to get her out of her mind or something, because she knew she could do this. She could do anything. 

“Leslie.”

Ben’s voice snapped her out of her panicked haze. She’d been pacing, apparently. She stopped, turning.

“You want me to be your advisor?”

Of course. He wanted her to be his advisor because this is the closest they could ever be, the closest they could ever hope to be. Leslie wasn’t royalty, she was only a knight and she could never sit on the throne.

“It’ll be a start,” Ben said, walking toward her.

His hand reached out, grasping hers. He pulled and she floated toward him, her mind already clearing. Once, in the darkness of the empty halls, Ben told her that when she was around, it was like he could finally settle his mind. She understood completely.

Leslie inhaled as his thumb rubbed against her lip, trailing along her jaw until his hand was secure on the back of her neck. She leaned into him, tilting her head up, craving him. She watched him the entire meeting, noticing the tap of his fingers against the table, the depth to his eyes when he looked at her.

“I thought you’d have more to say,” he said.

“I was trying to behave.”

Ben smiled, nudging her nose with his. “Don’t.”

His voice buzzed against her mouth, his lips covering hers. Leslie’s hands came to life, threading through his hair and gripping. He held her close, pushing her back until her ass hit the edge of the table. He deepened the kiss, his tongue warm and tasting of sweet wine. It reminded her of stolen kisses in the garden, of soft touches by the lake, the way his hands lined her sides and groped her breasts made her think of the day they got caught in the rain among the trees. 

Ben lifted her shirt, his nails digging into the flesh of her waist, gripping her sides, causing her back to arch. He picked her up, placing her on top of the table, knocking over a goblet of wine. Leslie pulled away, turning to retrieve it, but Ben pulled her back to him, pursing his lips against her neck. 

“Leave it.”

He nipped at her collarbone before lifting her tunic, tossing it aside. His eyes darkened at the sight of her breasts and he pushed her back against the table so he could lean over her, devouring them. He licked and sucked his way along her cleavage, circling her nipples with his tongue, sucking and moaning. Her fingers gripped his hair and she moaned, hissing his name when he bit down.

“I missed you,” he mumbled along her skin, trailing down, down, down. “I don’t want to travel again.”

“You were only gone for two days, my prince” Leslie said, as if she didn’t miss him just the same.

Ben pulled on the string of her pants and tugged them down. He moaned when she was naked, sliding between her legs, kissing her thighs. She wiggled beneath him, wine soaking into her hair. She tried to care, tried to sit up or move, but she was powered only by Ben’s lips, his tongue, the way her name fell along her skin like a desperate promise.

Leslie should’ve been worried about getting caught, about whatever plans the royal family has for their remaining son, how her moans might sound just outside the door, but she couldn’t. All she could focus on was the thrust of his tongue and the purse of his lips, the way his teeth grazed her and how his nose rubbed her clit. She clawed at his hair, pulled and begged him to keep going, to never stop, how perfect he was right _there_.

Her body tightened, a hot, beautiful fire spreading along her thighs, in her stomach, and finally all over. She released, thrusting and shaking against his face. Ben lapped at her, licking along the crease of her thigh and down to her knees and back as if he needed to clean up every last drop of her.

He stood, pulling her limp body up so he could kiss her. Leslie slid her hands under his shirt, feeling the tight, flat muscles of his stomach. The soft hair along his skin grazed her fingers and she hummed as Ben undid his pants.

He kissed her and Leslie bit his lip as he pulled away.

“I love you,” he whispered. 

Leslie sighed, opening her legs to give Ben room to come closer, to help align their bodies.

“I love you.”

He was hard against her and she grabbed his hips, pulling, trying to get him to push inside her. He grabbed her wrists and moved her hands to his neck. She pouted and he smiled, kissing her soft and sweet.

“Be my queen,” he whispered, rocking his hips forward. 

Leslie gasped, her head shaking as he pushed in deeper. She moaned, Ben’s forehead dropping to hers.

“I can’t, I’m not” -- Leslie moaned as Ben thrust -- “I’m not a princess.”

Her eyes stung, tears pushing against them. She knew this, she knew this ever since she first saw him and craved his gaze and needed his touch. She knew this when he kissed her, when he kissed her again, when he said he loved her against the wood of the stable walls. She figured he knew it, too, especially when he’d look at her across the grass and his head would tilt down and the stress would crawl up his neck. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

“One day,” Ben said, pulling out and pushing back into her. He moaned. “My father will be dead, and I will be king.” He continued to fuck her, his thrusts deep and almost painfully slow. She needed more and yet, her eyes filled with tears because it was too much, entirely too much. “And you will be my queen.” He groaned, hissing as she rolled her hips. “If you’ll accept.”

“Yes,” she moaned. 

His hips sped up and she told him she would marry him, she’d rule with him, she said yes into his neck and against his lips. He kissed her as he fucked her, Leslie’s heels digging into his ass to drive him in deeper. He continued to beg her to marry him, to be his queen, as if she hadn’t agreed a million times over. She smiled into his mouth, wondering if he just liked the sound of her agreeing with him, of her agreeing to be his. Forever.

His hips quickened, his rhythm becoming familiarly erratic, and Leslie squeezed his shoulders in warning, whispering his name. He groaned, frustrated, as he pulled out and covered her thighs in cum.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

They’ve gone back and forth, reminding each other that Ben cannot finish inside her. It used to be that he could never, but now it was not yet. Not until she was really his queen. Sometimes she would beg him to keep going, her legs wrapped around his hips, and other times she would push him away, until he pulled out and emptied along her stomach. 

They kissed and Leslie whispered her love one more time before she jumped off the table and found her clothes. They dressed in silence, stopping at the doorway. He grabbed her face and pulled her to his lips.

“Until tomorrow, my queen.”

His _queen_ , she could get used to that. As long as she still got a sword.


End file.
